


Venus Records

by zhan9jun (seventheavenly)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shorts, 长得俊
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14757012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventheavenly/pseuds/zhan9jun
Summary: A collection of shorts based on moments shared between Yanjun and Zhangjing.





	1. Foreword

 

Just wanted somewhere to keep my drabbles based on ZhangJun moments.

Chapters will be titled with dates: of when the moments happened, or when I found out about them — so they won’t be in chronological order.

 

I’ll be marking the fic as completed since the chapters are one-shots, but will update when I do have new ones!

☀ enjoy ☾

 

_He is my sun,_

_Who smiles brightly to light my day and warm me to my bones._

 

_He is my moon,_

_Who watches over me and guides my way in the darkest nights._

 

_And Venus watches,_

_As they continue to blossom._

 


	2. 180525

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on 2018 May 25th’s fanmeeting at Beijing. Yanjun is rumoured to have had mild fever for a few days, while Zhangjing’s throat isn’t in its best condition. During a segment, Yanjun is asked to do push ups, and he cues Chengcheng to sit on his back as he does so, [but Zhangjing asks Chengcheng to move away very soon after](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun/status/1000038398306934784).

Yanjun shakes his head softly as Zhangjing slumps onto the hotel bed — their hotel bed.

 

Normally, he would chide the older boy for getting onto the bed before taking a shower. But tonight, he lets it slide.

 

With his mild fever, he doesn’t have it in him to even get into the bathroom, much less nag the other. He knew Zhangjing’s throat ached as well, so he had been trying his best to not engage the older boy in conversation, hoping it would recover slightly if not entirely.

 

He looks at Zhangjing who is sprawled across the bed and moves to find a space for himself to lay down on his side, next to the other.

 

The older boy’s eyes are closed. If he weren’t breathing heavily, Yanjun would have thought that he had already fallen asleep.

 

Reaching over, Yanjun runs his fingers along Zhangjing’s neck, over his Adam’s apple, feeling the other shiver at his touch.

 

Zhangjing reaches to grasp his hand in response, a smile tugging at his lips.

 

“Can I help you, Mr. Lin?”

 

Yanjun smiles immediately at his words. “Don’t talk, let your throat rest.”

 

Zhangjing nods obediently and places his hand, with Yanjun’s in it, on top of his chest.

 

The younger boy feels Zhangjing’s heartbeat, feels the other’s warmth, his exhaustion and his gratefulness.

 

“Nongnong told me,” Yanjun says softly as not to startle the other, “that you looked really fierce earlier. When Chengcheng sat on me while I did the push ups.”

 

There is no need for Zhangjing to open his eyes to know that the other is smiling. He can _hear_ it in Yanjun’s voice.

 

“You sound happy about that.”

 

“I’m happy that you care.”

 

“And I’m unhappy that you’d push yourself so hard when you’re sick. How could you cue him to sit on you while you’re fighting fever?”

 

“I wouldn’t have died.”

 

Zhangjing’s eyes snap open and he turns to look at Yanjun angrily. “I’m already unhappy that you’re sick. Don’t talk to me about dying.”

 

Yanjun’s heart aches at the words and he frowns. “I’m not happy that your throat is sore, either.”

 

The older boy’s lips press into a thin line.

 

“Let’s both get better soon, alright?” Yanjun suggests, freeing his fingers from Zhangjing’s grasp so that he can brush them along the other’s cheek.

 

“So you can let Chengcheng sit on you again?”

 

Yanjun can’t help but laugh at the bitterness in Zhangjing’s voice.

 

“Does it make you jealous?” The younger boy tries not to chuckle. “Wait, don’t answer that. Stop talking before your throat gets worse.”

 

Huffing, Zhangjing rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I hope he crushes you the next time he sits on you.”

 

“Like how he crushed you when you two were popping balloons?” Yanjun’s voice drops into a dangerous whisper, watching Zhangjing’s eyes widen with panic and his cheeks flush.

 

“You still haven’t agreed to let **me** pop balloons on you,” Yanjun laments, “but you’d nag me for this?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Zhangjing says immediately, his voice adorable and pleading — the way Yanjun likes it. “I’ll buy some balloons when we have some time to ourselves, alright? We can pop balloons all night then.”

 

It is a great plan, so Yanjun grins and makes Zhangjing seal the deal with a pinky promise. He then lets the other snuggle up to him — something he would usually not put up with, either, not when they were both sweaty and unbathed.

 

“Sitting on my back isn’t as intimate as lying over you, anyway,” Yanjun points out after a while.

 

“Are you **still** being jealous? Over the past?” Zhangjing giggles and nudges the younger boy’s chest playfully. “I already agreed to pop them with you when we can!”

 

“Stop talking, You Zhangjing,” Yanjun reminds, but grins as he continues. “I’ll be bitter about it until we pop a hundred balloons the same way.”

 

“It’ll be awhile before that happens,” Zhangjing ponders out loud.

 

“Unfortunately.”

 

“I can think of intimate ways to sit on you though,” Zhangjing informs, biting his lower lip when Yanjun raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Yanjun warns, but the older boy doesn’t miss the spark in his eyes.

 

“Fine, fine.” Zhangjing rolls away from Yanjun, but feels himself quickly pulled back into an embrace.

 

“What happened to not starting something I can’t finish?” Zhangjing teases, but sighs contentedly as he presses himself closer to the younger boy.

 

“For the last time, stop talking.”

 

This time, Zhangjing finally complies — letting a comfortable silence envelope them as Yanjun's lips meet his.


	3. 180527

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Yanjun continuously [cuing](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun/status/1000679642938814464) and [teasing](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun/status/1000693637573832709) Zhangjing during the Innisfree Green Play Event, and Zhangjing's "wanna eat collarbones" selfies after (´｡•ㅅ•｡`)

 

“Why aren’t you wearing your shirt properly?”

 

Zhangjing doesn’t reply Yanjun’s question immediately — just so he can annoy the other and have his little revenge.

 

“Why do you care?” He answers after a minute, feeling the younger boy’s gaze on him the whole time. “If you really cared, you wouldn’t have teased me so much during the interview,” Zhangjing huffs angrily. “Reduce swolleness? In charge of memes?”

 

Yanjun is never fazed by Zhangjing’s retorts.

 

Only because he knows the older boy isn’t actually angry, and also because Zhangjing comes off as more adorable than fierce whenever he put up a verbal fight.

 

“I’m just giving you more chances to speak,” Yanjun explains, “I love hearing your voice.”

 

The older boy huffs again, but a smile appears on his face right after. “You have your way with words, Lin Yanjun. I’ll give you that.”

 

“Why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll take better photos of you, with your shirt buttoned up?” The younger boy tries, walking over and extending his hand.

 

“Why don’t you let me show the world my beautiful collarbones? It’s not like you didn’t unbutton your shirt for a selfie some time ago,” Zhangjing whines. “How come you are allowed to show skin but I’m not?”

 

“Fine, fine,” Yanjun gives in sooner than he expects to. “Go ahead and post it.”

 

Dragging a footstool and sitting in front of Zhangjing, Yanjun lets his gaze rest on the other as he worked on his post.

 

“Done!” Zhangjing announces happily, leaning forward and turning his phone to proudly show Yanjun his update. A smile tugs at Yanjun’s lips and he is reminded of why he could never stop loving the other boy. Zhangjing never ceased to amaze him with the satisfaction and joy he found in small things.

 

“Hmm,” Yanjun rubs his chin as he looks at Zhangjing’s phone.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Mm, nothing much.”

 

Zhangjing frowns, turning the phone back to check in case he made any typos. “Lin Yanjun,” he warns, “you can’t look at me like that and use that tone — and not tell me what’s wrong!”

 

“I just thought of something that would’ve made the photos look nicer, that’s all,” Yanjun replies, shifting closer to Zhangjing’s chair.

 

“Should I have turned my face more to the right?”

 

“No,” Yanjun reaches to grab Zhangjing’s phone, laying it on the little table beside them.

 

“Then what?”

 

“I think a kiss mark on your collarbones would’ve made the photos ten times better.”

 

Yanjun loves it when Zhangjing’s eyes widen, when the older boy’s fair cheeks flush, when Zhangjing opens his mouth to reply but finds himself at a loss for words.

 

The younger boy watches as Zhangjing bites his lower lip, sinking back into the armchair. “It’s too late for that now...”

 

“It’s never too late,” Yanjun assures, as he reaches leans forward to press his lips on the other’s lips. Zhangjing softens at the kiss, his hands finding Yanjun’s shoulder and grasping them in encouragement.

 

The younger boy makes sure that Zhanjing’s lips will be swollen before he breaks the kiss.

 

“I thought,” Zhangjing starts in a daze, “you wanted to kiss my collarbones…?”

 

“I do,” Yanjun smirks, “I was just getting there.”

 

He cradles Zhangjing’s head and presses a soft kiss below the other’s ear. “Do you have any complaints?”

 

The older boy replies with a breathy whisper of incoherent words, so Yanjun takes it as a no and proceed to kiss down his neck.

 

When Zhangjing lets out a small sound of satisfaction, he finally plants a kiss on the other’s collarbone.

 

“There.”


	4. 180618

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Yanjun's Weibo update for Dragon Boat/Dumpling Festival.
> 
> A belated 端午节快乐 to those of you who are celebrating :D
> 
> (I also did not beta read this, so if you see any typos or mistakes, pretend you didn’t?)

 

“Lin Yanjun.”

 

If there is one voice in the entire world that Lin Yanjun cannot ignore, it is You Zhangjing’s voice.

 

“ **Lin Yanjun**.”

 

Especially when the other is pleading.

 

“ ** _Lin Yanjun_**.”

 

Especially when the other is pleading for food, complete with puppy eyes and a quiver of lips.

 

“Please?”

 

Zhangjing’s face is so close to his that Yanjun stops breathing for a moment, just so he can focus on the other’s features that he had grown so fond of: his sparkling eyes, his adorable nose, his fair cheeks and his now pouting lips.

 

“No.”

 

Still, Yanjun has to, or he tries to, gain some form of control.

 

“You were the one who told me earlier to not let you eat after nine o’ clock,” the younger boy reminds. The reminder doesn’t seem to faze Zhangjing as he leans back to cross his arms over his chest with a huff.

 

“How was I supposed to know our manager would get dumplings after dinner!” Zhangjing never goes down with a fierce fight when it comes to food. “Please, Yanjun, I haven’t eaten one in years! Not since I left Malaysia!”

 

The younger boys wonders if that is a lie or an exaggerated truth, not that it matters either way. He had promised himself to be responsible for Zhangjing’s diet — so that the other would not have to lose weight in unhealthy ways, so he had to stand his ground.

 

“Help me take a photo for my Weibo post,” he says, ignoring the other’s confusion at his sudden request.

 

Despite the abrupt change of topic, Zhangjing complies. Obediently accepting Yanjun’s phone from the younger boy, he moves to the other side of the table. He watches with a pitiful gaze as Yanjun opens the dumpling, its aroma filling the air in their shared room.

 

Dispirited, Zhangjing begins taking photos of him unenthusiastically, causing Yanjun’s resolve to weaken. “I’ll let you have one bite after you take the photo, all right?”

 

A smile tugs at Zhangjing’s lips at the words. Upon seeing the other’s joy, Yanjun smiles briefly, too. Zhangjing takes a handful of other shots after, but Yanjun choose the one where he is smiling. ‘Because I smile whenever you smile,’ he thinks, as he writes his Weibo post.

 

When his update is properly posted, Yanjun returns his focus back to Zhangjing. The older boy is still sitting across him, his elbows resting on the table with his face cupped in his hands, gazing over with longing in his eyes.

 

Yanjun _almost_ feels jealous knowing very well that Zhangjing’s expectant gaze is for the dumpling and not him.

 

“You Zhangjing.”

 

The older boy gulps, already imagining his teeth sinking into the dumpling.

 

“ **You Zhangjing**.”

 

Yanjun repeats himself again when there is no verbal response from the other. Zhangjing merely nods, worried that he might drool if he opened his mouth.

 

“ _ **You Zhangjing**_.”

 

Yet knowing Yanjun, the other would let this continue all night if he did not offer a reply, so he answers with a weak ‘yes’.

 

“Do you like dumplings?”

 

When it comes to food, Zhangjing’s defenses are especially frail. He nods his head vigorously and mentions the amazing ones his grandmother makes. “She puts the best ingredients in it! If you ever get the chance to visit, I’ll definitely have you let you try some!”

 

“This dumpling has an egg yolk. Do you like dumplings with egg yolk?

 

“Of course! Do you think there is anything I don’t eat? Even though I’m mildly allergic to prawns, I still eat them!” At Zhangjing’s unprompted confession, Yanjun can’t help but smirk — a dimple appearing on one side of this cheek.

 

“Okay, that’s enough smiling, Lin Yanjun,” Zhangjing stands up and points a finger at him. “Are you going to keep my word and let me have the dumpling or not?”

 

Yanjun motions for Zhangjing to approach him, telling the other he intends to keep his word. He turns in his chair to face the other when Zhangjing pads back to stand in front of him, the older boy leaning slightly down towards him.

 

Expecting.

 

“I said I wouldn’t let eat anything after nine.” Yanjun wraps the dumpling up.

 

Zhangjing’s eyes and mouth widen in betrayal upon hearing Yanjun's words. “But you also said I could have a bite! You tricked me!”

 

“I didn't say a bite of what, though,” Yanjun stresses as Zhangjing glares at him. “What else would there be to eat here?” Zhangjing’s voice raises in exasperation.

 

When Yanjun replies with another smirk, Zhangjing regrets asking.

 

“Well,” the younger boy’s voice is tinted with amusement and wicked delight. “I’m here.”

 

“Yanjun,” Zhangjing intended to warn the other, but when hands grab at his waist to pull him into its owner’s lap, the vocalist’s voice becomes needy instead.

 

“Please, Yanjun.” As the words leave his lips, Zhangjing realizes he is uncertain of whether he is pleading to eat the dumpling or if he is pleading for something else.

 

Holding Zhangjing’s waist with one arm and reaching to rest his thumb on the older boy’s bottom lip, Yanjun watches the look of craving come and go in the other’s eyes. He shifts, eliciting a soft gasp from Zhangjing, and leans to whisper in his ear: “Please, what?”

 

“Please, let me eat…”

 

The vocalist is speaking with a drawl as if his last coherent thoughts are slipping away — just the way Yanjun likes it. Zhangjing’s fingers find home on the other’s broad shoulders, gripping just tight enough to let Yanjun know not to let him go.

 

‘You’re such a child, You Zhangjing,’ Yanjun thinks, but never says. He knows that if he ever voices that thought, the older boy would become more wary of showing this side to him — and Yanjun would regret it for the rest of his life.

 

Coaxing Zhangjing’s lips to open wider, Yanjun brings their faces closer together. When he whispers again, he can feel Zhangjing’s ragged breaths on his lips. “What would you like to eat?”

 

Zhangjing’s mind scrambles but fails to provide an answer, not that he needed to — because Yanjun doesn’t wait for one, pressing their lips together immediately after.

 

As they taste each other’s tongues and mouths, the dumpling is left forgotten.

 

* * *

 

The sun had just risen the next morning when Zhangjing wakes up, casting soft rays over their tangled bodies under the blanket. In their haste the night before, they had forgotten to draw the curtains entirely shut. Usually, Zhangjing would be unable to sleep with the ambient night lights creeping into the room, but he had been so thoroughly exhausted, it did not matter. He turns to see Yanjun still asleep next to him, and smiles.

 

Firstly, because Yanjun looks very handsome.

 

Secondly, because he loves waking up next to the other.

 

Lastly, because he can subtly remove himself from under the other’s arm, to tiptoe towards the dumpling, and—

 

“You Zhangjing.”

 

Sighing, Zhangjing stops in his tracks and turns to see Yanjun looking at him from the bed.

 

“It’s time for breakfast?” Zhangjing tries, even though a dumpling is too heavy a breakfast for his current diet. Yanjun shakes his head, preparing himself for an outburst of dramatic laments and pleads from the older boy.

 

He doesn’t mind it at all, however, and smirks as his eyes trail across the other’s milky skin that is peppered with the marks he left the night before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t get to eat any rice dumplings this year so this is how I’m coping.


	5. 180629

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here’s a new chapter that isn’t beta-read, so please excuse my mistakes! I will come back to fix it sometime in the future.
> 
> Also, while writing, I imagined them to be speaking in Chinese - in case some of you find the context weird! So for those who don’t know, in Chinese, ‘he/him’ and ‘she/her’ are pronounced the same, but written differently. Just something to keep in mind while reading! :)
> 
> Based on the duet of Ed Sheeran’s Perfect that Zhangjing and Yanjun covered together!  
> (So obviously the date isn’t the actual date, but iQiyi only decided to feed us with this precious thing today — so I filed it under today’s date instead.)

“You  **_have_ ** to help me.”

 

Yanjun does not want to laugh, but he can’t help it. He can’t tell if Zhangjing’s voice is quivering more than his eyes are — but regardless, the other looking so dramatically helpless amuses him.

 

“Of course I will,” the younger boy assures. “I already said I would before we landed, didn’t I?”

 

Zhangjing nods but does not seem less worried. “My English is really, really bad,” he whispers nervously.

 

“Your Chinese isn’t that great and your English sucks, what do we do with you?”

 

Yanjun barely dodges the pillow that is thrown at him, but he smiles. At least the worry from Zhangjing’s face had disappeared.

 

“We’ll go through the lyrics a few times together, all right?” Yanjun suggest, taking out his phone to search for the lyrics. “You can repeat after me to get the pronunciation correct.” Nodding enthusiastically in agreement, Zhangjing also asks if Yanjun will explain the lyrics to him. “Let’s go through once before I explain the lyrics, okay?”

 

So they do, Yanjun reading line by line and allowing the older boy to repeat until he was satisfied with the way the words rolled off his tongue.

 

Then the explanation began.

 

“Before I begin, promise me you won’t interrupt me till I’m done explaining?” 

 

Despite the strange request, Zhangjing hooks his pinky finger around Yanjun’s and waits expectantly.

 

“This is what the lyrics mean:

 

I met someone, someone I could love — someone just for me.

So I asked the person, my darling, to dive in with me, to follow my lead.

 

The person I found is beautiful, adorable, bright and sweet — and was waiting for me too, or so I hoped.

We fell in love when we were young, without knowing what it was.

But now, this time — I won’t give up.”

 

Yanjun pauses for a moment to study Zhangjing’s expression. The older boy looks nonchalant, if not slightly skeptical — but he keeps his promise to not interrupt, so Yanjun continues.

 

“Darling, please kiss me slow — I only have your heart to hold onto, and you already own mine.

I’m dancing in the dark with you in my arms, barefoot and listening to our song.

 

You said you looked like a mess, but I whispered, not expecting you to hear, but you did: that you look perfect.”

 

Pausing yet again, Yanjun gauges Zhangjing’s feelings to no avail. The older boy merely peers at his own notes, his pen lightly tapping on the paper every now and then.

 

So Yanjun continues.

 

“The person I love is strong, despite looking otherwise.

He shares my dreams, and I hope to one day share a home with him.

 

He carries more than just my secrets, my love, my hope.

We’re still young, but we’re so very much in love while fighting against all odds.

 

But I know we’ll be alright, because I will protect him.

As long has he decides to hold my hand, I’ll be his man.

 

I can only imagine a future with him, if he isn’t there — it isn’t a future I want to consider.”

 

Zhangjing is no longer tapping his pen, in fact, he isn’t holding his pen anymore — his fingers balled into a fist. Yanjun feels his heart drumming fiercely in his own chest, and continues.

 

“The rest is a repeat, until the last bit, it says: I believe in what I see, I know I’ve met an angel on earth.

This angel is perfect, and I don’t deserve this.”

 

He then inhales sharply, losing his confidence, and whispers something barely audible.

 

And so, an awkward silence greets them both at the abrupt end of Yanjun’s explanation.

 

However, Zhangjing’s body is pressed onto his the next moment, the older boy’s fingers gently but firmly grasping onto his shoulders, their lips crushed in a heated kiss.

 

Because Zhangjing had heard him, even when Yanjun did not expect him to — the words: You Zhangjing, you’re perfect.

 

When they are breathless from the kiss, when Zhangjing’s entire face is flushed and his lips swollen; when Yanjun takes one look at the older boy and pulls him into a tight hug because the sight causes a sudden wave of protectiveness to wash over him — Zhangjing whispers in reply.

 

“Lin Yanjun, you’re perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that was so sappy.
> 
> ZhangJun's duet made me sappy, blame them instead!!!
> 
> Also, if you'd like to talk about ZhangJun (especially fics!), please come poke me on Twitter [@zhan9jun](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun)! My DMs are always open and I love screaming over this perfect duo :')


	6. 180707

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off [Yanjun looking like (and actually being) Zhangjing’s bodyguard](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun/status/1015503406448852993) at the airport today.
> 
> AND BECAUSE [ZHANGJING'S CHEEK SQUISHED AGAINST YANJUN'S BACK](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun/status/1015504118738120704) IS SO FKING SOFT

 

“What’s wrong?” Yanjun looks around to make sure that no one is watching them before brushing the back of his fingers down Zhangjing’s cheek.

 

The older boy’s mask is on, but Yanjun can tell that he is exhausted from the look in his eyes. Zhangjing shakes his head and Yanjun feels his heart clench slightly.

 

Like him, Zhangjing did not like voicing out his less happy thoughts so he would not worry Yanjun.

 

Thankfully, they had grown to know each other so much that Yanjun did not need the other’s words to know his thoughts.

 

With their short trip in Taipei coming to an end, it was back to a packed schedule for them both. They had spent their trip in the best possible way, catching up with friends and visiting places on their bucket list — while still being productive.

 

When he boarded the plane, Yanjun had felt a tinge of reluctance.

 

He supposes Zhangjing would feel the same.

 

“Get some sleep before we land, all right?” Yanjun suggests, and Zhangjing nods, his eyes curving into the pretty crescents that the younger boy had come to love.

 

* * *

 

Yanjun eyes Zhangjing worriedly when their flight’s landing is announced. The older boy is groggy from sleep and his eyes are puffy — something Zhangjing hated. He watches as the vocalist puts on his sunglasses wordlessly.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Yanjun asks softly.

 

Zhangjing shuffles slightly to rest his head on Yanjun’s shoulder. “As well as it could be, I suppose.”

 

Yanjun hears the other sigh and snuggle closer — but the older boy’s warmth is gone as quickly as it had come.

 

* * *

 

Fans are gathered to see them at the airport as usual, but the usually energetic Zhangjing is lost and Yanjun can’t help but feel extra protective.

 

It isn’t a surprise that they are swarmed, but he feels apprehensive this time. Yanjun knows that Zhangjing is trailing behind him, so he walks slightly slower for the other to catch up.

 

When the older boy is close enough, he leans to whisper to the other: “Stay close.”

 

He hears a soft giggle in reply. “Yes, Mr. Bodyguard.”

 

Behind his mask, Yanjun’s dimples appear.

 

* * *

 

The train is packed and Yanjun tries to stay calm as he moves to find a safe spot for them both. As more people fill the cabin, he is directed to the side with Zhangjing following behind.

 

“Get behind me,” Yanjun leans over to whisper.

 

In a daze, Zhangjing obediently follows as he is told, finding a place between Yanjun’s back and the train doors.

 

As people crowd around them, Yanjun resists the urge to turn his back to them — to face Zhangjing instead. But he doesn’t, because Zhangjing has said that Yanjun is his wall, and Yanjun wants to be right now, shielding him from all forms of exhaustion and worry.

 

With his personal space getting invaded, Yanjun instinctively takes a step back and feels his back come in contact with something soft.

 

Heat dances across his cheeks as he realizes that it is Zhangjing’s cheek on his back. His fingers curl and he takes a deep breath to stop himself from turning around that instant to wrap the other in an embrace.

 

A giggle reaches his ears, followed by a soft sound of relief.

 

“Thank you for being my shield, Lin Yanjun.”

 

Yanjun smiles under his mask and nods to let Zhangjing know that he heard him.

 

“I’m so tired,” the older boy continues in a whisper amidst the sound of camera shutters and fan chatter. “I’m so glad you’re with me.”

 

At the words, Yanjun leans back slightly. _I’m glad I’m here with you too._

 

“If there were no cameras, I’d lean onto your back and hug you right now,” Zhangjing confesses, a hint of playfulness in his otherwise weary voice.

 

The next second, Yanjun feels Zhangjing’s fingers on his lower back — tracing slow circles, brushing along his spine and then tapping softly in a rhythm unknown to Yanjun. Despite his own exhaustion, Yanjun feels a fierce heat coursing through his body.

 

He clears his throat, half-wanting and half-dreading that Zhangjing would stop touching him. The older boy giggles again and removes his touch. Yanjun sighs in relief and disappointment.

 

When they get back to the hotel, Yanjun thinks, he would make sure Zhangjing finished what he started — no matter how tired they both were.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, when Yanjun’s hand rests on Zhangjing’s bare waist under the blanket — he finds out that Zhangjing had the same thought in mind.

 


	7. 181104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to update To Quit Smoking today (only because it’s my one-year wedding anniversary and I’m cheesy like this, in case you haven’t noticed), but work has kept me very busy in the past month. To make up for it, I decided to update this instead c:
> 
> Wasn’t planning to write a new chapter anytime soon, thanks to the lack of ZhangJun content in real life, but I suppose their reunion in Seoul is something to be happy over!
> 
> Sorry I didn’t get this beta-read, please don’t throw shoes at me for typos or mistakes!  
> (You’re welcome to throw money at me, though — I’m broke from the 11.11 sales!)

Yanjun doesn’t remember being this nervous in a while.

 

Not since the final stage of Idol Producer.

 

Not since his first performance at Idol Hits.

 

He sits at the foot of the bed, staring at the hotel’s door. His fingers intertwining and detangling in an effort to calm himself, but it is all in vain.

 

When the door opens, Yanjun thinks that he can finally relax. 

 

Yet, his heart merely skips a few beats when Zhangjing walks into view — a bright smile on the other’s face upon seeing him. 

 

“Yanjun.”

 

Zhangjing’s voice is barely above a whisper, but Yanjun hears him loud and clear and it makes the younger boy’s heart swell, making him want to throw himself at the other. Still, Yanjun remains on the bed — too overwhelmed to move.

 

And, perhaps Zhangjing feels the same, because he stays rooted to the spot at the door. His luggage bag is right next to him, but the older boy makes no move to carry it over.

 

“You’re here,” Yanjun says, feeling slightly silly after stating the obvious — but it is more for himself to hear, because it feels so surreal and he needs a confirmation. A sign that it isn’t another one of his dreams, that it isn’t all just in his head.

 

“I’m here,” Zhangjing smile grows wider. He then sighs in relief. “I’m finally here.”

 

With the confirmation, both of them seem to relax ever so slightly and Zhangjing reaches for his luggage bag.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Yanjun blurts out at the motion, as if worried that the other would disappear if he moved any more.

 

Zhangjing giggles softly at his sudden words and makes his way over, his hands that are half-hidden under the long sleeves of his hoodie reaching for Yanjun and wrapping him in an embrace. He then buries his nose in the fluff of Yanjun’s newly dyed hair and takes a deep breath.

 

“You hair looks nice in this color. And smells nice too.”

 

A sounds between a scoff and chuckle escapes the younger boy’s lips at the words. ‘ _ You’re not going to tell me you’ve missed me? _ ’ he almost wants to ask, but decides to return the embrace instead, relishing in the feeling of  **finally** having Zhangjing in his arms again.

 

“You’ve lost weight,” Yanjun says as he frowns. Zhangjing would be happy to hear that, undoubtedly, but the younger boy’s heart aches. “Has no one been feeding you well since I last saw you? Have they not been feeding you well even on that cooking show?”

 

“That cooking show,” Zhangjing says with a smile in his voice, “is for cooking. I do eat, but I don’t want to overdo it when there are so many cameras on me. And, well, Nongnong has tried to feed me, I suppose.”

 

Yanjun’s reply is an unamused sound as he tightens the embrace.

 

“I’ve been looking forward to see you so much,” he then confesses softly and then stresses, “I  _ really _ missed you. I thought I’d only see you late tomorrow.” 

 

“I came over as soon as I could,” Zhangjing replies, breaking the embrace to playfully ruffle Yanjun’s hair before taking a seat next to him. “I didn’t think my manager would really let me fly over so soon, but I’m glad. At least now I’ll get to have some time to settle down before our schedules tomorrow.”

 

Yanjun tries  **not** to sigh, wondering when Zhangjing would say the words he has been waiting for instead of being thankful for their extra time together. Not that he isn’t thankful too, of course. After so many days of solo schedules — or even when they were together, it was with the other members, never just them both — and Yanjun more than welcomed the chance to finally be alone with Zhangjing.

 

“Why don’t you go bathe,” Yanjun suggests, part of him slightly annoyed and another part of him being the clean freak that he is — despite having hugged Zhangjing who is still in his airport clothes.

 

“Sure,” Zhangjing agrees immediately, as if he has been waiting for Yanjun to say so. “I’ll be back soon,” he adds, before pressing a quick kiss to Yanjun’s forehead.

 

As the younger boy watches Zhangjing disappear into the bathroom, he thinks that he might just forgive him — thanks to the kiss.

 

* * *

 

They spend the whole day indoors, only leaving separately when their managers called for it. After dinner, they curl together on a single bed, watching random videos on Yanjun’s phone. Zhangjing laughs, giggles and adds his own commentary — and Yanjun just listens in silence, replying with a short answer every now and then, only because he wanted to hear more of the other’s voice.

 

When they are halfway arguing over whether or not to watch a trailer for a horror movie, a knock on the door is heard and Zhangjing screams, latching himself onto Yanjun’s arm. 

 

Yanjun grins helplessly at him and says that it is probably the hotel staff or either of their managers. His latter guess is proven correct when he answers the door, Zhangjing’s manager reminding them both to sleep earlier for their schedules tomorrow.

 

Taking the chance to skip watching the horror movie’s trailer, Zhangjing complies and tells Yanjun to switch off the lights. Quickly moving to snuggle under the covers, he misses the slight look of disappointment on the younger boy’s face.

 

So when Yanjun slides under the covers, but stays far from him, Zhangjing can’t help but wonder. 

 

“Are you angry because I didn’t watch the trailer?”

 

“I’m not so petty to be angry over something small like that,” Yanjun answers coldly, shifting his elbow away from the other’s searching fingers.

 

“But you’re angry, right?”

 

Yanjun chooses not to answer.

 

“Do you not love me anymore?” Zhangjing asks teasingly, but softly as if he is really worried, and Yanjun wants to cry foul — because he can never stay angry at the other when he uses  **_that_ ** particular tone. 

 

Still, that did not mean he had to give in just yet.

 

“What do you think?” The younger boy’s voice is still cold, spurring Zhangjing to figure out the cause of Yanjun’s temper.

 

“I think,” Zhangjing starts with a knowing yet careful tone, “that you love me, but are angry at something. So, perhaps you don’t love me enough right now to grant my simple wish of snuggling next to you.”

 

Even though Yanjun knows that Zhangjing is just teasing him, Yanjun turns around furiously to glare helplessly at the other upon hearing the first few words of his last sentence.

 

“You Zhangjing. If you asked me for the world, I’d give it to you.”

 

The older boy stares back at him: his eyes bright and big and twinkling with amusement. “But Yanjun,” he starts, shifting closer to the younger boy, “you  **_are_ ** my world.”

 

Despite his best wishes, a chuckle escapes Yanjun’s lips and lift them to a smile. 

 

“What I mean to say is,” Zhangjing smiles brightly at Yanjun before pressing a quick kiss on the other’s lips, “I’ve missed you.”

 

The words melt the little barrier of displeasure Yanjun has built around himself that day, and he allows himself to relax — to fully be at comfort and ease — next to Zhangjing. “What am I supposed to do with you,” Yanjun asks, eyebrows raising as the other presses himself against him. 

 

“Love me,” Zhangjing replies matter-of-factly.

 

And so, Yanjun does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that, I tried very hard to not use the phrase: SOULMATES REUNITING IN SEOUL while writing. Does anyone appreciate my self-control, or was it for naught?
> 
> As usual, you can slide into my direct messages over on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/zhan9jun) to scream about ZhangJun, because it's one of my favourite things to do :D


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